If I Choose
by FANtom of the Opera
Summary: Mia made her choice. But what if it wasn't so easy? In this rewrite of If I Stay, Mia learns more than she could ever have fathomed while contemplating whether to live or die - about Kim, about Adam, about her family, but most importantly about herself.
1. Chapter 1: The Moment

**(A/N): I really enjoyed **_**If I Stay **_**but I wanted more character development and discovery from the story. So, this is sort of what I wanted from the book. I think I'll use the same character names to keep this consistent and coherent.**

**I liked all the characters in the story—Mia and Adam and all—but I wanted a little more from them. So, here we go :) **

I barely remember anything from the crash itself—only the aftermath.

What are you really supposed to remember from a car crash, anyway?

I do remember that Dad had just turned on some classical music, at my request, and Mom was laughing about it. We talk about it on occasion—how I defected from the rock genre of my family to the classical genre and my cello. It's not really a sore spot so much as an ironic one, though I'll admit it's not particularly normal to pluck through a Vivaldi Concerto while your parents blast Metallica on the lower floor. But hey, it's a way of life.

I also remember seeing the truck in front of us. It was massive, and my thoughts scattered immediately when it rumbled straight into our path. Come to think of it, I don't really know exactly what went through my mind when the crash actually happened. Everything dissolved in a blur of white and black, and I remember being jolted—_hard_—to one side.

From there, the connection between my body and me dissipated.

They took me to the hospital. This much I know, because I was there. I watched them bundle up the bodies of my parents, my mother's hair splayed out on the road like a fan, my dad's pipe in two pieces in his shirt pocket. I watched them take me in their hands, put me in a stretcher, take me to the hospital.

I watched the nurse tell me the words I'd been dreading to hear. "It's up to her. If she lives or dies. She makes the choice, not us."

_I make the choice._

To stay without Mom or Dad. To leave without Adam or Kim.

It's all on me.

All on me.


	2. Chapter 2: The Couple

I've been sitting here, just watching myself for a while now. I'm not sure whether or not it will help me—whether or not it will make this any easier—but I'm content with trying. Anything is possible now.

I know that a host of relatives are gathered outside, waiting to see me. The problem is, the two people I want to see most _aren't _here.

Don't get me wrong; I love Gran and Gramps. But I can't imagine making this choice without seeing Adam and Kim.

_Adam. _The mere thought of him sends shivers up my spine. I wonder where he is, and if he's heard. We've spent so many days together—sipping drinks on his porch swing, dancing at one of his concerts, dressing up and parading around as rock gods on Halloween.

I still remember the first day I met him—the first day _us _because a possibility. I was at my locker (because trust me, that's where all the romantic stuff happens in high school), desperately searching for my English binder, when he turned up behind me. He rested a hand on the locker door and peered over at me.

I raised my eyebrows. "Hi?"

He smiled, and the corners of his mouth tugged up. "Hey, Mia."

Let me just get something straight: Adam is _Adam. _His band is pretty much the most talked-about group in the high school music industry, which is a big deal. At that time, I shuddered to imagine the crowds of possibly provocatively-dressed women vying for his attention at Shooting Star concerts. I didn't stand a chance with him, but it wasn't like I really wanted to. Once, I remembered Kim asking me about my then-dormant romantic life. "I'm dating my cello," I told her innocently. Nothing has ever sounded cheesier.

Anxiously, I checked the clock. I had two minutes to dash to my next class. "Is there something you, um, wanted?"

He inched closer to me in a manner that would have resulted in disaster if attempted by any guy other than Adam. "Well, yes. In fact, I would like to ask you to join me after school today for a romantic walk."

"Can't. I have cello practice." That much was true.

"Well, I feel like you might want to make alternate arrangements." With a smirk, he held out a slip of paper to me. My heart almost stopped. _Yo-Yo Ma. _

"Concert tickets? To Yo-Yo Ma?"

Adam shrugged. "It's the least I could do. You still have cello practice?"

Needless to say, I did not.

Kim wasn't all that happy that I'd started dating Adam. The dating part wasn't really the hitch so much as Adam was, though I couldn't see the reason behind it. "You can do so much better," she reminded me. But as far as I was concerned, that wasn't possible. There was no one within two hundred miles of our town with a smile as wide as Adam's, a band as famous, a love as desired.

I decided to go on without Kim's consent. She'd been out once or twice with a couple guys, but nothing serious emerged, so I kept at Adam. We went out a couple more times—to concerts, to dinner, to movies—but when I took him _home _for the first time, things became… how should I say this?

Before then, Adam and I were more the cotton candy couple. Kim always said that there were stages in a relationship, and I supposed that was true. Adam and I were skimming the surface of a romantic life together, so to speak—we were new in love, we didn't have any problems, but we weren't very serious about each other either. I got a kick out of him putting his arm around my shoulder, out of his hand in mine when we walked to classes together. He loved it when my hair spilled over onto his shoulders or when I leaned on him. It was always occurrences like these.

Until.

I was initially apprehensive about asking Adam over, mostly because I'd never been in a relationship before. What did a home visit mean for us? Did it make us a couple?

But when Adam rang the doorbell and my dad answered, everything seemed to settle down a little. Adam was right at home with my dad and his rock obsession, and Mom—Mom could make small talk with a Scandinavian orangutan. It worked out. Teddy was shy at first, but eventually he warmed up to Adam as well.

During dinner, Dad asked Adam all about Shooting Star: where they were playing, how they wrote their songs, what their touring schedule was. "I'd love to hear some of your songs," my dad said eagerly, and I could tell he meant it. Adam promised to throw him a few old records, and I silently vowed to listen to a few of them myself. Though Adam and I were, theoretically, an item, I hadn't thought to actually enter his world yet. Wasn't that for serious couples?

Teddy noted Adam's Captain America shirt and took that avenue. "Did you watch _The Avengers? _Who's your favorite?" Teddy has always shied away from interaction with most of my friends. From my experience, I've defined it as a Preserving-The-Coolness complex. But Teddy was completely cool with Adam, and it definitely made me feel safer about bringing him over.

After dinner, Adam and I went upstairs on our own. I was filled with relieved energy, because the night had gone well. Adam told me he liked my parents, which was a plus. But I couldn't help asking him. "What about me?"

He reached for my fingers and barely looked up. "Hm?"

"Was I okay? _Am _I okay?"

I've always seen these couples in the hallways where the girl is always asking the guy if he thinks she's pretty, if she's smart enough for him, or if he likes her better than anyone else. I've always dismissed those girls as a combination of desperate and insecure, because what other answer can the guy give than yes? But that night, I needed to ask. I needed to know if this was working, and if it was, where it was going.

Adam looked up at me, and his eyes were ablaze. He pulled me closer to him and we rolled onto my bed. "Listen to me, Mia," he said tersely, his voice teeming with passion. "There is no other place I'd rather be right now—not at a Shooting Star concert, not at some movie, not at my house—than here, with you, right now. You understand that?"

Warmth shot up my entire body, and I relaxed. I almost fell into his embrace, and he took my hair in his hands. "I love this hair," he murmured. "I love this hair, I love your fingers, I love your… Goddamn, Mia, I love _you_."

Then, he crushed his lips to mine, pulling me in, pulling me deeper, and I couldn't separate myself from him. _I couldn't breathe. _I tried to drag myself away, but he pushed me closer to him. "If you love me like I love you, Mia, you have to prove it," he murmured, and I relented. If I loved him, I had to do what he wanted. So we kissed harder, until _he _decided it was over and pulled away slowly, falling over back onto the bed.

It became obvious to me after that. We were a couple.


	3. Chapter 3: The Commitment

I've lost track of time, and there's still no sign of Adam or Kim.

I don't know where they could be. I don't want to leave the hospital itself, because I'm still not sure how this Not-Alive-But-Not-Dead thing works. If I left the hospital, or got too far away from my body, would I disconnect? Would my soul be lost forever?

There are so many things I don't know and that scares me.

My thoughts keep coming back to Kim. _Kim. _Kim, who always had—_has_—my back. Kim, who spent countless days camping out in my backyard when I got the flu because I promised we could have a sleepover and she wasn't letting me go back on my word. Kim, who almost got into a fistfight with a guy who started spreading rumors that I had cooties. Kim, who asked her mom to go to the birth center and legally enroll us as sisters.

I wonder what Kim would do if she were in my position. She's always so perky about everything—she always tries to find the bright side. But when she needs to be, she's super practical. I like to think of her as my rock, because when I start to freak out or go a bit ballistic, she anchors me.

Take when I told her about Adam, for instance. I remember the day almost perfectly. I invited Kim to a foray at a local coffee and pastry shop, our usual hangout, a couple days after the Yo-Yo Ma concert. Until then, I had never stepped within five feet of a guy my age unless it was in the crowded hallways or for a school project, and I wasn't sure how Kim would take it.

We met and placed our orders. Right away, I started talking to her about it.

"So, Kim," I began slowly. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"About a guy?" She said immediately. It definitely wasn't what I was expecting, and I flinched.

"Umm… How did you know?"

"Gossip spreads quickly. This is high school," she said absent-mindedly. "Now. I want to know details. A. Did you kiss? B. How intimate? C. Who?"

"Okay. Well, no to A—I'm not really sure how serious we are, so yeah."

"Okay."

"For B… I mean, I don't really know yet. We've only gone out once, and we haven't talked to each other since then, but… I feel different. I feel lighter, almost. I want to meet him again."

"So early stages."

"And C… it's Adam."

_"Adam?"_

Kim's reaction was one I still remember. She looked up from her coffee, raised her eyebrows, and set an elbow on the table. Kim _never _puts her elbows on the table. "You're dating Adam? Like, Adam of Shooting Star?"

"I guess so," I said calmly, though my heart was threatening to burst out of my body. I felt almost immature, like a smitten puppy. _I'm dating someone, and it's Adam. _To say it out loud was to make it official.

Much to my surprise, Kim shook her head. "Oh, Mia," she said softly. "Why Adam?"

"Why not?" I said obstinately. This was the first guy that had ever used me for something other than homework, and she was questioning it?

"Oh, honey, Adam has a history. He's not… he's not normal with girls. You can do so much better."

"It doesn't get much better than Adam," I persisted. "He took me to a Yo-Yo Ma concert. He sat through the whole thing—not just sat through but _listened _to it. He was into it."

Kim passed right over it. "You know Lisbeth, right? Lisbeth from English?" Lisbeth was a quiet, unassuming girl that had somehow ended up in my English class all four years of high school. This year, Kim was in my class too. Though we'd seemingly known each other for a while, all I knew about her was that she had dated Adam for a little bit.

"Yeah. She dated Adam, and she looked happy." That much was true. I saw her once or twice flocking to Adam's lunch table, her blonde curls bouncing behind her. She looked completely changed. There was this look in her eyes that I'd never seen before. I didn't know what it was, but it was almost otherworldly.

A couple weeks later, Liz ran into school sobbing. I wasn't close enough to her to get the details, but I did know that Adam had broken up with her—and _hard. _The gleam in her eyes was all but gone, and she sat on the opposite end of the lunch table. The entire cafeteria was silent for a while, as if acknowledging their break. Then, Adam found another girl, and the cycle went on.

Kim continues. "Well, I was talking to Liz, and she told me that Adam was really weird with her. Like, they were normal at first, and then he began acting strange. And Liz felt really uncomfortable spending time with him, but she thought it was a phase, and she thought he loved her, so she stayed with him. And then one night, he called her all these mean things and told her to get out of his life, so she stormed out. The next day, she came to school in tears."

I couldn't imagine Adam doing _any _of that. "Kim, Liz was just upset. And besides, every girl is different. I want to give Adam a fighting chance. And…" My cheeks flushed bright red. "I kind of like him. A lot."

Kim turned around, but I didn't miss her classic Don't-Say-I-Didn't-Warn-You eye-roll. "Okay, Mia. You do what you need to do. I'll be with you every step of the way." She bit into her scone. "Just… you know, be careful."

I smiled. "You're just jealous." I poked at a stray crumb. "You'll see. We'll be fine. That's how love works, right?"

Kim nodded, and when we left the coffee shop, she was smiling, but there was something else in her eyes that I couldn't place. Worry?

I didn't mind. I'd never done this boy thing before, and I was determined to make it work.

And it _has _worked ever since.

My heart nearly stops when I leave my hospital bed, look through the waiting room window, and see Kim waiting there. _Kim. Kim's here. She's here. _She looks tired—her eyes are slightly bloodshot, and lots of hair sticks out from her usually immaculate braid. She speaks in hushed tones to Gran, very likely about me.

It hurts my heart to see her here. If only I could _talk _to her. If only I could push through this invisible barrier that keeps me from her world and tell her that I'm here and somewhat safe. Maybe then she could help me think through this humongous decision I have to make.

I love Adam and Kim. I love them both. And as far as I can see, there are so many reasons to stay. I have Juilliard—if I make it—to attend, memories to make with Kim, kisses to share with Adam, a future to take by the reins.

I can't imagine leaving, because it would seem too much like giving up. Giving up on everything that I've had leading up to this moment in my life. But at the same time, what is a life without a family? A life without Mom's morning waffles, or Dad's rock music, or Teddy's eccentric choice in wardrobe?

But they would want me to stay. I know it.

Right then, I realize I _have _to stay. But I decide to wait just a little while and think about this. If my decision is somehow registered in the Grand Not Alive But Not Dead council who has trapped me in this strange life, I don't want to go back into my own body where I'm probably incoherent and can't put actual thoughts together. I don't know what it would feel like to be the broken doll me I see on the hospital bed, but I feel like this is better.

So I decide to think. If I stay—if I choose to stay—what would I do with my life? What would I do differently? Because all in all, this is a choice. The choice to live means that I have something to live for. So what is it? What is it that makes this world better than no world at all? What am I going to do to make the life I choose to have a better one?

Let's see.


	4. Chapter 4: The Reflection

Now that Kim's here, I feel more of a sense of security. But a gaping hole remains in the empty leather chair where Adam should be sitting.

The nurse let Kim in to see me a few hours ago. She sat in a chair near my bed, and I watched her eyes the entire time. My throat strained with the words left unsaid. _Kim, I'm here. Kim, I'm watching you. Kim, I'm going to be okay. _

"Mia," she said carefully to me, in a measured tone, "I don't know if you can hear me or not, but I'm under the assumption that you can, because otherwise I'd probably be slated as mad." She laughed drily. "So, there are a couple things I wanted to, you know, say to you, because maybe you can hear me and I sound calm but I'm worried as hell for you."

"_If _you can hear me, then you must know that your parents… Teddy…" she took a deep breath, and I could see tears glinting in her eyes. "Yeah. But I'm still here. Adam…he's still here, though he hasn't come yet and I really don't know…but whatever. That's beside the point. But the nurse was telling me that you could make this choice, like if you wanted to live or die, and so I just want you to know that this life is worth living."

Kim leaned in until she's right next to my ear. Though I wasn't in my own body, her breath tickled me when she whispered, "You made it into Juilliard, Mia."

I bit back a scream. I wanted to grab Kim and shake her and _ohmygoodness I made it into Juilliard Juilliard JUILLIARD._

"But that's not all," she continued. "I mean, your life is going to be freaking awesome if you go to Juilliard. And you can't miss out on that. Maybe you're upset about your family. I know I would be. I _am. _But you're not really alone, Mia. You have my family. Adam…" she sounded almost annoyed when she said his name. "You have your grandparents, your cousins, aunts and uncles, a lot of people who want to help you. So just think long and hard about leaving. And if it's a decision you want to make, then I'll live with it. But don't forget that there's a lot left to live for."

She squeezed my hand, kissed me lightly on the forehead, and then left—though not before wiping a stray tear from her eye. _Oh, Kim._

Where's Adam? I feel like after I see him, I should be able to decide. I have to figure out how I'm going to live my life differently, and I need him to be here. I remember one night when he told me he'd always be there for me. Always, whenever I needed it.

So where is he now?

After the night at my house, most of my nights with Adam were spent at one of our houses, just talking or playing music or kissing or just doing the usual mundane couple jazz. But one day, Adam invited me to one of his Shooting Star concerts for the first time, and I couldn't have been more nervous.

I loved music. Music was what made me a person, and what made me whole. I was completely willing to listen to music from Shooting Star, though some of the themes discussed were slightly unorthodox, but that was rock. What I _wasn't _so willing to do was to get lost and possibly crushed in a sea of chanting people who could or could not be part of a cult, trying not to die. Concerts were not especially my thing, mostly because orchestra performances were very formal and demure. Rock concerts were—to put it lightly—all over the place.

But I couldn't say no to Adam, because he was always so supportive of my musical pursuits of the cello, and I had to do him this one favor. So I agreed to go, though I asked him for a map of the venue just in case I was in danger of being trampled by a boisterous crowd.

The day of the concert, I sat in front of my closet, looking for something to wear. I had lots of formal dresses from my cello concerts, but I somehow felt like they weren't as appropriate for this occasion. After scouring my entire closet and even poking through some of my mom's old garments from her heyday, I found what I considered "appropriate rock chick attire." I put on a black tank top, a pink shirt of my mother's that read _REBEL FIRE_ and a black leather jacket with silver rhinestones embedded in the front. I found a pair of black pants and even pilfered my mom's black combat boots. I chose a variety of jewelry, including a choker necklace with silver spikes, black cross earrings, and a skull bracelet. I did my hair up in a half up half down style and was tempted to dye the ends pink, but decided against it in the end.

My mom testified to the fact that I looked pretty darn rock chick. Even I was happy with the end result; Adam would like me this way. I'd fit in with all of the cheering listeners of Shooting Star, and I'd hopefully meet Adam backstage at the end so we could walk home together and maybe spend the night.

I drove up to the concert venue, map in hand, and found my way in. The concert was only just starting, but the place was _packed. _I inserted myself into a group of screaming girls just as Adam took the microphone for the first song.

The concert was _electric. _Adam was spectacular, the music was explosive, and the fans were ecstatic. Even better was the fact that I fit in with the crowd. I made conversation with a group of girls that were apparently "married" to Adam and proudly identified myself as _Adam's girlfriend. _We talked about our favorite Shooting Star songs while singing along at the choruses and cheering at the ends of every song.

As the concert rounded up, I started to make my way to the stage, map in hand. I wanted to catch Adam as soon as he walked offstage and tell him how awesome the concert was. I was also excited to show him my outfit, which was surprisingly working out well for my friendship prospects. Today was a great night.

I found my way to the backstage door just as Adam left the stage to a cacophony of wild fans. I found my way backstage and, after waving to and congratulating a few of the band members, caught sight of Adam signing an autograph. I eagerly called his name, and he turned around. "Mia?"

I practically bounded to him. "Adam! Hey! You did amazing!"

He barely even looked at my face. "Mia… what's this?"

I squeezed his hand, confused. "Huh?"

His mouth turned down, almost with disgust. "Mia, what are you _wearing_? Did you pick this out yourself?"

"Yeah!" I nodded, fingering the rhinestones on my jacket. "What do you think? I fit in with the rest of the girls here, and I made lots of friends! You were spectacular Adam, and I just—"

"Hold on." Adam rested a finger on my _REBEL FIRE _shirt and scoffed. "Mia, what the hell were you thinking? This is not you at all. This is hideous. You… you look like a _slut_."

I recoiled, my face blooming with color. _What? _I'd never felt more ashamed in my entire life. I had been wrong to think this was a good idea. Adam was right. I did look like a slut. "Oh, Adam, I'm so sorry," I whispered, my face burning. I was an idiot.

Adam wrapped his arm around me. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here. Don't worry. I'll get you a coat, so no one has to see what you're wearing. You don't want anyone to know that you dress like this, right?"

The tears came then, rolling over my cheeks and onto his shirt. "No, I don't. Adam, I'm so sorry, I ruined tonight for you, I just—"

"Don't worry, Mia." Adam pulled me close to his chest. "Everybody makes mistakes. Even you. I'll always be here if you need me. Don't worry. You can ask me about anything you need. I'll make sure you never look like this again."

I lean my head on his shoulder. "I love you," I whisper.

He smiles. "I love you too. You understand that, right? I have to make sure you don't do things like this again. I have to protect you."

"I get it," I say. _He'll always be here if I need him. _He pressed his lips to mine, this time for longer than ever before.

And I vowed never to wear anything without his approval ever again.

He was here for me.

After that day, I stuffed all of the concert clothes back into Mom's closet and made sure Adam was okay with anything else I wore. I couldn't imagine making him upset like that ever again.

But now that I think about it, I wonder why it mattered so much to me what he thought of my clothes. Mom thought I looked gorgeous. Why wasn't that enough?

_Because he's Adam, _I told myself. Because he was Adam, and I loved Adam, and I wanted our relationship to be perfect. And it was perfect—it _is _perfect—now that I know what he wants of me.

For some reason, though, I don't fully believe that anymore.

But—

_Ohmygod._

_Ohmygod._

I'm looking through the glass window separating the waiting room from the hospital beds, and I see that empty chair that once felt like a void, but it doesn't anymore, because it's filled with a person.

_My _person.

_Adam is here._


	5. Chapter 5: The Fire

My eyes haven't left him yet.

I'm finding it so hard to look away from the way his dark hair sweeps his brow, the way he speaks quietly to Kim, the way his hands are trembling even though they are stuffed into his pockets.

I can't hear any of their conversation, but I wait in earnest for the moment when he will rise from his chair and enter my hospital room, and not even the stars above will be able to keep the two of us apart. I will be able to make my choice now.

But the question remains: _If I choose, what will I do differently? What will change in my life?_

The problem is, I really don't know. Everything I have seems too unfixable, too constant. And yet, I _know _something is wrong…

My heart nearly stops as Adam gets up and walks over to a nurse. He speaks softly to her, and I see his lips form my name. _Mia. _He's really here for me. He's really here to see me.

The nurse looks almost unhappy, but she eventually leads Adam through the glass doors that seem to separate the dead from the living. I press my face to the window and watch him come down the corridor, watch him turn his gaze from left to right and try not to focus on any one room for too long, watch him search for me. _I'm here, Adam, I'm here. _

When he finally reaches my room and gingerly opens the door, I almost can't breathe. We are so close to each other, and yet so far. Our bodies are inches away, but our souls are worlds apart.

Adam's eyes bulge when he sees my body on the bed, my eyes taped shut. "Mia," he whispers, his lips shaking, and the nurse takes that as her cue to leave.

As soon as she's gone, Adam rushes to the side of the bed and sits in a chair there. He plants a feather kiss on my forehead. "Oh, Mia," he says softly, his voice shaking. "Do you have any idea how much pain you've caused me these past days?" He laughs drily. "I canceled my tour. I drove all the way here. And they tell me… they tell me you might not even make it."

His grip tightens on my hand, and he leans in. "When you come out of this, Mia, we are going to have a night worth remembering." I know it's supposed to sound endearing, but for some reason his voice is almost aggressive.

And that's when I remember.

It's a memory I've repressed for a while now—for too long.

The night I went to Adam's house. After one of his Shooting Star concerts.

The night everything changed.

I'd selected a demure collection of clothes to wear to Adam's first Shooting Star concerts that he approved of to make sure that first night never repeated itself. Usually, after his concerts, Adam would drive me around the town a little, and we'd occasionally stop for dinner at some fast food place. But one night, Adam suggested something different. "Mia, why don't you come to my house tonight?"

I was fine with this plan—that is, until I realized his parents weren't home. "But won't your parents be upset? They don't know me."

"They don't have to know, Mia. It's just one night. It's not a big deal. And I've been wanting to have you over at my place for some time now. Don't let me down this time, please."

And so it transpired that Adam drove me over to his place at eleven at night. This time, I was wearing a green shirt and jeans, and I'd brought a coat with me in case this outfit didn't pass the test. "There are leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry."

When we pulled into his driveway, I slung my purse over my shoulder and made my way in. "Nice house," I said quietly. He smiled and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

"If you want, get a snack," he reminded me. "But meet me upstairs when you're ready."

I dismissed his comment while he disappeared up a flight of stairs and helped myself to a Rice Krispie bar. I wasn't exactly sure what to expect for tonight, but I did know that our relationship had only gotten more serious over the months. Last time we'd met, he'd kissed me so long I almost passed out, but his hands refused to let me pull away. I was sure I loved him—certain—but I wasn't exactly sure what love _was _anymore, especially after these nights with Adam. Was love letting him kiss me as much as he wanted? Was it changing my style for him, buying new clothes, making sure he liked me?

Was it selling myself for his benefit?

Nervously, I made my way up the stairs. I'd left my bag downstairs, planning to come back for it later.

I'd never been to Adam's house before, so I wasn't sure where his room was. But when he called my name from a space tucked into a hallway, I meekly followed his voice in that direction.

Adam was waiting for me on the bed, a smile dancing on his lips. "Mia," he said, "come here."

I took small steps towards the bed, my legs almost shaking. This surprised me—_why was I scared? _This was only Adam, after all.

I sat on the bed, and his arms snaked towards my shirt. I flinched as I felt his fingers make contact with my bare skin. "Adam…"

"What?" He watched me through half-closed eyelids. "Don't worry. I'm here." His lips brushed across my neck. "Come closer."

Panic seized me as he kissed me all over my neck, then moved to my face. _Just relax. This is what love is. Relax. _I tried to remain as still as possible as he caressed my cheeks, my nose, my eyes.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Are you ready?"

"For what?" I whispered quietly, my voice tinged with fear, but it was already happening.

Adam's hands reached for my belt buckle and started to undo it. The entire time, his lips were crushed into mine, entombing me in his embrace, in his passion.

And I was terrified.

His fingers peeled my shirt from my body and started to ease it off, up and over my head. "You're so beautiful," he murmured as his fingers traversed my bare skin. He took my shirt off and balled it up in his fists before throwing it across the room.

"Your turn."

I looked up at him with shock, my eyes wide. He took my hands in his and moved them towards his shirt. He took the cloth and stuffed it into my fists. "Go on." Clumsily, I started to take his shirt off like he'd done for me, but my entire body was rebelling. _I don't want this. I don't. I don't. _I only realized I was crying when my tears fell on my uncovered stomach.

I couldn't.

I froze in his arms and released his shirt, started to pull away from his body. His lips were still sealed onto mine, his hands all over my body. I started to push him away and tried to form his name on my lips. My entire body was shaking violently. "S-s-stop," I stammered, trying to separate his form from mine.

He noticed. I gasped for air as he released me from his kiss and fell back onto the bed. The tears continued to flow like rivers of vengeance. "Adam, I can't do this."

The look in his eyes shifted from confusion to hurt and, ultimately, anger. He shook his head. "Do you love me at all?" His voice was blood and fire pounding in my ears.

I nodded and desperately tried to wipe the hot tears from my cheeks. "I-I do, Adam, I do, but I'm sorry, I just can't do this with you right now, I can't—"

He shoved me off of him and I fell off of the bed. My arms burned from the impact, and I winced. "Mia, I thought you were better than this," he said coarsely. I staggered to my feet as he continued. "How much have I done for you? How many times have I protected you from wearing the wrong clothes, from saying the wrong things… this is my payment?"

I looked around wildly for my clothes, but I couldn't find them. All I could perceive was a dizzying darkness that blurred everything around me. "Adam, just let me go, I want to go home…" I knew I was babbling, but I couldn't help it, because in that moment I was terrified of him, terrified of what he was doing to me, and I wanted _out. _

He stood and walked over to me. "Fine," he said coldly. "Leave. And don't expect me to take you back."

I stumbled to the corner of the room where my shirt lay, all balled up and covered in a thin layer of sweat. I had never been more embarrassed in my life. I had disappointed Adam again, and my heart ached because of it, but at the same time I felt almost… _relieved. _

I looked back at Adam one last time. He was turned away from me, his hands on the bed. As if he could feel my gaze on him, he said softly, "Get _out_."

As fast as I could, I turned and ran back down the stairs. I grabbed my bag from the kitchen table and opened the door, immediately assaulted by a rush of cold air. Adam had driven me in his own car, and there was no way he was taking me back. I didn't know how far the walk was home, and I'd told my parents I was coming home with Adam. They were probably fast asleep, and I didn't want to talk to them about this. There was no one left to take me.

Except.

My fingers slipped over the digits but she still picked up on the first ring.

"Mia? Where are you?"

"Kim. Can you be here in five?"

"Let me guess. Adam's?"

"Just… please."

"Already on my way."

Kim didn't even need an explanation to drive to Adam's at midnight on a moment's notice. She didn't say a word to me the entire drive home; we simply sat in silence. I couldn't erase his face from my mind; the way he'd looked at me and kissed me with a hunger in his eyes and the fear that filled me. Were we over? I reached for my phone, and Kim slapped it out of my hand.

"No."

"Kim, I have to text him. If he's mad at me—"

"If he was mad at you then, he probably still is. Leave him be. He's not worth it."

When she dropped me off, I gave her a huge hug. "Kim, I don't know where I would be without you and I just—thank you."

She shrugged. "This was nothing. Your decision after tonight _is _something. Think long and hard, Mia. How many times are you going to do this?"

She squeezed my hand and then drove away.

Immediately after, I reached for my phone, ready to text Adam. Then, I thought about what Kim had said. _He's not worth it. _Sighing, I stuffed it back in my pocket and went inside.

The very next day, Adam texted me:

**FORGET LAST NIGHT. I LUV YOU, MIA. STAY W ME.**

So on Monday, at school, the first thing I did when I saw him was kiss him full-on on the lips.

Because that's what love is, right?

You live and you learn. You love and you learn.

I loved Adam.

But now, as I reflect on the memory he told me to forget, and I see the hunger flickering in his eyes, I realize I'm still not ready. I don't want him the way he was that night. I don't want the fear to seize me so that I can't breathe.

Maybe I'll never be ready for him.

And I think maybe, _maybe, _when I come out of this I can tell him so. I can tell him that I don't want him that way, and he'll go back to being the cute Adam who took me to a cello concert and loved me passionately but quietly.

Not for the first time, I think again on love. What is it? Do we have it? So many times, I told Adam I loved him. And while he told me he loved me, he reached for my shirt. He crushed my body to his and kissed me so hard I could barely breathe. He turned me out of his house because I wouldn't do what he wanted.

Adam's love may be that. It may be doing what he wants, conforming to his needs, and being _his. _But that's not the love I want.

And I know now. Why I'm staying. How I'm going to live my life differently.

What's going to change.

And I'm ready.


	6. Chapter 6: The Love

Adam is still here, sitting in the chair beside me, watching me silently.

I'm still here, standing beside Adam, watching him silently.

And I realize I can't take this anymore.

All of my memories twist and blur together, forming a disconnected string.

Adam, swaying to the sound of Yo-Yo Ma's cello in the spacious concert hall, spending his own money for my happiness.

Adam, kissing me passionately at my house after dinner with my family.

Adam, putting a coat over my shoulders and hiding my outfit from view. Calling me a slut.

Adam, refusing to let me go and pushing me into his own embrace. Forcing me into something I resented because he wanted it.

And then Kim, warning me about him.

Kim, driving me home that night and telling me that he wasn't worth it.

Kim, drying my tears and then looking on sadly as I kissed Adam the next morning.

I know now, _for sure. _This is what love is. I don't have it with Adam, and maybe I never did. But I do have it with Kim. Because Kim cares for me. She drove out in gloomy weather at midnight to make sure her best friend was okay. She got here, to the hospital, as soon as she heard about the accident. She spoke to me so calmly, so endearingly.

When everything goes black, I know I've made my choice because I'm hurtled into my own body lightning-quick. A slow, aching pain crawls into my legs and arms, and my eyes feel weighted and bruised.

Adam is talking quietly to me. "I love you, I love you, I love you…" But his words don't feel real anymore. It's almost as he's reciting them off a script from a bad play.

So I squeeze his hand once, to let him know that I'm back.

He looks at me almost immediately, his eyes widening. "Mia?" I stir briefly, shifting on the bed.

I can barely see, but I feel him leaning in, his lips moving nearer, his eyes closing for another heart-stopping kiss.

But I've made my decision. And my one word stops everything in its tracks.

"Don't."

**Just to note, I loved the character Adam on his own—because this is a rewrite, his personality is different. I kept the same character names to make the story more understandable from a reader's perspective.**

** So that's it! Thank you for reading ****_If I Choose. _****Feel free to give me constructive criticism and etc. in the reviews below—I'd love to improve my writing.**

** Until next time!**


End file.
